


Call Out My Name

by Madam_Feline



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Decepticons are technically the good guys, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt and comfort, Post-War, Slow Burn, Unethical Experimentation, War, finally a fic that deals with the caste system in tf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Feline/pseuds/Madam_Feline
Summary: In a post-war Cybertron Blitzwing and Blackaracnia find themselves victims at the hand of the Autobots. Thankfully, they won’t be at the mercy of the Autobots long.
Relationships: Blackarachnia/Optimus Prime, Blitzwing/Blackarachnia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Chains

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to come back to TFA after rewatching. Now I have to write about it. Enjoy the first chapter!

“I look at you and I see myself  
And I know you better  
Than anyone else

And I have the same faucet in my eyes  
So your tears are mine.”

— Crybaby by Melanie Martinez

* * *

It was over. The large mech sat on a bench far to small, in a cell, which was also far to small. Blitzwing had been in the Ministry of Science for Primus knows how long. He hated this Allspark-forsaken place. Every single day they poked and prodded at his processor, desperately trying to see what made him and his other personas tick. They opened his form to study his triple changing ability, even removing his t-cog for a few megacycles to examine it. 

He felt ill. Sitting in a dark cramped room, solitary confinement as he was deemed to dangerous for anything less, covered in chains. Four chains in total. One around his ankles, to prevent him from kicking or running. One around his wrists, to prevent grabbing or punching. One around his waist, to prevent him from getting to close to nurses for comfort. And one around his neck. It was tight and uncomfortable, it rubbed against his neck cables in an almost painful way. 

But that wasn’t what bothered him the most.

What bothered him the most was the muzzle on his face. It was placed there after and incident with one of his less savory personalities. The nurse still had deep jagged bite marks on her armor. It was humiliating, sitting here like this, caged like an animal. Every now and then the scientists would come and watch him, studying him, looking for some sort of reaction sometimes with interns in tow. It was like he was an animal in a zoo.

He let out a low grumble as one of his more furious personalities screamed in his helm to do something. But what could he do other than sit here and rust? He allowed his optics to drift shut. 

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that when the Decepticons tried to fight against the unfair caste system put up by the council the Autobots interfered. It wasn’t fair that despite initially wanting the same thing, the Autobots still chose to fight against them. It wasn’t fair that he was sitting here in a cage, while the Autobots paraded themselves like war heroes. It wasn’t fragging fair. 

He tugged against the chains for a moment, the soft sound of the rattling shackles sounded like canon fire in this deafening silence. Under normal circumstances he would tear through these chains, break out of this cell, and tear his tormentors to shreds. But he couldn’t. They had made sure to keep him weak. Give him just enough energon to remain online. They stripped him of his weapons. They even kept him heavily sedated. 

He perked up at the sound of a cell door opening, cracking open an optic he realized that it wasn’t his door, but the door of the cell across from him. His optics widened as he spotted the form of a familiar femme. She looked even worse than he did, though he shouldn’t have been surprised as her organic half made her more fragile than the average Cybertronian.

She wasn’t chain, she was instead held in a straitjacket. No doubt so she couldn’t hurt herself or anyone else with those clause of hers. He noticed that she too had a muzzle. He smirked a bit, she must’ve used her venomous fangs one some poor bot. The guards roughly shoved her into the cell before shutting the cell door and leaving. Blitzwing gave them a glare as they spared him a glance. 

“Figures I’d see you again three-face.”

Her voice was muffled, hoarse and rough, almost as though she spent the last few cycles screaming her helm off. He looked over her for and noticed obvious injuries, the Autobots weren’t pulling their punches anymore. He only gave a small scoff in response, his optics growing heavy as he looked at her. He saw something flash in her optics, she seemed disturbed somehow. 

“You’re quiet?” The statement came out more like a question. She shuffled over to the corner of her cell. Seeing Blitzwing quiet disturbed her. The quiet disturbed her. For the passed few megacycles all she heard was silence, and the sounds of her own screams. It was driving her mad. It made her wonder, just what could they have done to him? A shiver went down her spinal strut. “Say something three-face.”

Blitzwing raised an optic ridge at the request. He had countless memory files of her telling him to be quiet, and her she was demanding him to speak. His face switched to a certain jack o’ lantern-esk face as he gave a muffled laugh. 

“Vell, vhat do jou vant me to zay?” Random asked as she straightened his posture a bit. He watched as the femme’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to formulate her words. 

“Something. Just say something.”

“Okay. Somezing! AHHHAHAHAHAHA!” 

Blackarachnia flinched at his sudden loud laughter but soon relaxed a bit. This was better than nothing. She honestly couldn’t believe she was finding comfort in Blitzwing. Her servos clenched into fists. She was going to make Optimus pay for this. He had told her that they could fix her, that she could be one of them again, and she had told him that they wouldn’t treat her well. She had told him that she would become just another object on a lab table. He swore he wouldn’t let something bag happen to her again. But that had all been a lie. 

Blitzwing’s face switched again, the blue one this time. The one she found the least annoying. 

“Are jou alright?”

The question caught her off guard. Of course she wasn’t, she was hurting in all kinds of ways, she was alone. But the fact that he asked at all surprised her. 

“I’m peachy.” The two were overcome with a deafening silence once more. The femme grit her fangs as her optics burned with angry tears. “This isn’t fair.”

“Tell me about it.” Blitzwing agreed as he looked at the techno-organic. “Vhat have zhey done to jou?”

Blackaracnia shut her optics as she brought her knees to her chest. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Blitzwing frowned. It seems the both of them have been banged up beyond repair. Though he imagined it would be worse for her given her form. That and these Autobot mechs probably haven’t had a femme in a long time, he reminded himself. 

“Everyzhing vill be alright.”

“How? How will everything ‘be alright’ Blitzwing?” The femme hoarsely growled. Her form shook with anger and his frown deepened. “We’re suffering and there’s no end in sight. We lost the war. You and I are probably going to go offline in this cell! And to top it all off there’s absolutely no hope for escape!”

Just at that moment the dormant light above the cells doors began to flash red as the sirens began to screech. The loud sounds made the triple changer stir as she stared at the femme. He had only seen the lights flash like that once before. 

Someone has escaped their cell. 

The two locked optics for a brief moment, her optics glittered with hope. Hope of escape, hope to end the suffering the two of them had been enduring for who knows how long. Blitzwing’s spark began to pound in his chest as his cables filled with adrenaline. His spark shined with hope. 

“Perhaps not all iz lost.”


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blitzwing makes a promise.

“If you feel so filthy  
So dirty, so fucked up  
If you feel so walked on  
So painful, so pissed off  
You're not the only one  
Refusing to go down  
You're not the only one  
So get up!”

Riot by Three Days Grace

* * *

The flashing red lights were blinding, nearly nauseating, the femme looked at Blitzwing with wide optics. She noticed that he too began to perk up a bit. She didn’t know what kind of drugs he was on to make him so slow and sluggish, but she could see a bit of his former self. Alertness came into the optics of the large mech, his monocle like optic whirred as he stared at the large metal door that led to the solitary confinement block. He stood up to his full height, his helm scraping against the roof of his cell as he got as close to the cell bars.

The chains had stopped him just a few feet shy of the bars. Blackarachnia took notice to the awkward stumble he had taken to get on his peds. He must’ve been more drugged up then she thought. She too stood up and made her way over to the cell doors, her claws flexed with anticipation. 

A struggle could be heard outside the doors to their block, gunfire and shouting. Blitzwing’s wings visibly tensed as the sounds grew nearer. Retracting his monocle like device he glanced at the femme. The small techno-organic was staring at the door, waiting for someone to bust in. Megatron maybe? No, he was offline. Shockwave perhaps? She’d even take Lugnut at this point. 

There was a loud energon-curdling scream as the noises ceased. Blitzwing took notice to how her form shook a bit. She didn’t say it, but she was afraid, and he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t a little afraid too. 

The doors to their block opened to revel a familiar mono-optic.

Blitzwing heard Blackarachnia breath an audible sigh of relief, his own vents released a sigh as well sending out a small plume of dust in the process. 

“Come now, we haven’t time to waste!” Shockwave opened Blitzwing’s cell and made quick work of his chains with a key, no doubt from an offlined Autobot. Rubbing his aching wrists he stretched, his spinal strut popping in a very satisfying way. “We must make haste!”

Blitzwing had wanted to ask how Shockwave had managed to escape, but chose to save that for a later time. Blitzwing continued to stretch his aching joints as he freed Blackarachnia. The triple changer couldn’t help but widened at the sight of the femme’s form. She looked so starved, her organic half had clearly not fared well under the harsh treatment of the Autobot scientists. He had a certain distaste for her organic form, but even he and his fellow Decepticons made sure that she was never malnourished.

It was almost impressive in a way. Her organic form, as weak as it was, remained durable. It still managed to function despite the obvious beating it took. 

Shockwave worked frantically to remove the femme from her cell. She walked out of her cell in a wobbly, uncharacteristically ungraceful way. Much to his surprise she leaned on the triple changer as a means of support. 

“Shockwave? H-How are you here? I thought—”

“There is a time and a place for that Blackarachnia,” Shockwave interrupted as she took her by the arm and lead her over the exit. “But now we must leave.”

The facility was huge, it’s halls were like a maze to those who were unfamiliar with the property. The three of them, however, were very familiar with it. The large mech spotted other decepticons, some beaten patients, others healthy soldiers. This outbreak had been planned. 

“REINFORCEMENTS ARE COMING!”

A voice yelled as the three emerged from the solitary block. Shockwave could feel the femme tense by his side. More Autobots were coming. And seeing as how this was a high level threat that dealt with Megatron’s closest officers, the femme glanced at Blitzwing. 

“Optimus.”

The word left her lip-plates in a hallow whisper. Shockwave grimly nodded as he continued to trek forward. They needed to get out her and quickly. If they Autobots caught them now, not only would their punishment be great, but it would also make it impossible to escape again. 

Optimus had been named Magnus after bringing in Megatron, who was executed for his crimes. His entire troop of Autobots has been given special positions of power sans two. The medic and the green brute. At least that was what Blitzwing had heard. 

“Ve must take zhe left here!” Shockwave nodded as he took a sharp left down the hall. The sounds of gunfire had started up again. Blitzwing’s sparkpulse quickened. The Autobots were near. 

“Hold up Blitzbrain!” Came an annoyingly familiar voice. The large mech took a pause and turned around. He grit his denta at the sight of a certain yellow Autobot. The Autobot, Bumblebee if he remembered correctly, had his stinger pointed at him. Under normal circumstances Blitzwing wouldn’t have even flinched at the sight of the puny stingers, but now that he was malnourished and weak he winced at the thought of being stung. Despite this fact he couldn’t contain the rage that churned in his spark at the sight of the Autobot. 

“I VILL CRUSH JOU BUG!” He yelled furiously through his gapped teeth as he clenched his teeth. 

Shockwave glanced at Blitzwing, then to the Autobot, then to the femme by his side. They couldn’t deal with this right now. The three of them, the techno-organic, especially were far to weak to engage in battle with the Autobots, and while the yellow bot wasn’t necessarily strong enough to take them all down alone the others couldn’t have been to far behind. 

“Blitzwing! We have to go!” He yelled trying to reason with the furious triple-changer. 

The small yellow Autobot booted at Blitzwing firing his stingers. The shots landed squarely on Blitzwing’s arms as he raised them to protect himself and his comrades, he let out a loud wail at the stinging sensation. In one swift motion swung his massive arm, cracking it against the Autobot’s body sending him flying into the wall. 

“BUMBLEBEE!”

Blackarachnia tensed at the voice. Optimus. 

He turned the corner, axe in servo, standing tall and proud as ever. His optics gazed at the Decepticons with determination. For a moment she wondered if it was that same look he gave Megatron before he was executed by the new Autobot council.

“We don’t have time for this! We must—”

“Shut up Shockwave,” The femme interrupted as the left his side. Wobbling a bit she struggled to stand on her own. She walked as coordinated as she could in front of Blitzwing. She stood with her chin up and her fangs bared, Optimus’ optics widened at the sight of her form. How thin she looked, how starved, malnourished. Her servos clenched into fists. “You have a lot of nerve.”

“Elita — I — what happened to you?” He asked in a horrified manner as he scanned her damaged form. His spark ached. 

“What’d ya think happened Optimus?” She growled as she raised her arms and showed off her injuries. Scarring on her metal mesh was obvious, as were the smooth accents of bite marks along her neck cables. It was hard for her to contain the rage in her voice, he had promised he would protect her, that he would fix her. And look where trusting Optimus a second time had gotten her. Her optics narrowed as they blurred a bit with lubricant. “You promised nothing bad would happen to me. You promised!”

Optimus fell silent as he spark twinged with guilt, his tanks churning uncomfortably. When he left Elita — Blackarachnia — in the care of the Ministry of Science he never expected such neglect, not from his fellow Autobots. He had been flooded with new duties as Magnus, and much of the smaller task had been left to the servos of his subordinates. He looked over her form once more, he couldn’t believe the treatment she had received under Autobot care. 

He came closer to her, placing his axe to the side, his servos raised in a peaceful manner. He noticed how much venom was in Blitzwing’s hateful stare, and he noticed how Shockwave took a step back as he neared them. He stopped just a few short paces away from Blackarachnia.

“Blackarachnia, I’m sorry. I never could’ve imagined that this could happen to you under Autobot care,” He took a step closer. “I promise I’m going to make this right.”

The femme took a shape step towards Optimus, she could feel the watchful optic of Shockwave, and the furious optics of Blitzwing burning holes into her form. She placed a servo gently on Optimus’ chasis, his shiny red paint chipped a bit under her claws. She placed a hand on the side of hi faceplate, letting it run down to his chin she leaned into his audio receptor. 

“Since when has a promise from you done any good for me?” She growled as she sunk her fangs into his neck. The Autobot’s knee joints buckled a bit as he lurched backward. It was moments like these in which she was happy to be part organic. Unlike Cybertronian weapons and mods her own organic abilities could not be removed, which thankfully included her natural venom and fangs. 

Optimus fell paralyzed with a loud clang. His optics wandered over to Bumblebee who was just now beginning to stir. He then glanced at Blackarachnia and flinched at her burning gaze. She was looking down at him with such hate, such rage, just like her comrades. 

A third of Blitzwing laughed at the sight of the Autobot sprawled about on the floor, his jagged grin widened from audial to audial. The brief moment of insanity didn’t last as Icy took over. Her gently placed a large servo over Blackarachnia’s shoulder, keenly aware of the the yellow bot beginning to stir. As much as he wanted to stay and scrap them both he knew they had to take their leave. 

“Blackarachnia, ve must go. Ve vill deal vith them anozher time,” His monocle whirred as he looked over her form. She was weaker than he thought. Placing a large servo on the small of her back and another underneath her legs she lifted her up. The femme squirmed a bit but did not protest. Turning to Shockwave he gave curt nod. “Lead zhe vay.”

* * *

  
The two of them sat in the medical bay on their respective recharge berths in silence. They had been checked and treated for their injuries, and much to Blitzwing’s dismay, it would be a long road to recovery for him. He glanced to the femme not to far from him. She laid on the berth on her side, her back facing away from the triple changer. He almost couldn’t tell that she was alive, the faith whirling of her vents were the only indicator that she was even online. 

He gazed over her form. He had been disgusted by her form before, especially her organic mode. Part of him still despised it, but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a least a third of him that favored it. His more sporadic personality loved that accursed organic mode of hers. It was chaotic, different from anything he had ever seen. She did not have the look of most femme’s. She did not look frail and inviting, or sweet and kind. She had the optics of a dangerous beast, with a certain smart edge to them, and sharp claws to slash enemies, sharp fangs to poison enemies, and an even sharper tongue. 

She’s alvays such a smart mouth!

An angrier part of him screamed in his helm. Which was true, she was, but there were parts of him that admired that fire as well. Perhaps it was because he too was an anomaly to his kind. Maybe, somewhere deep down, he saw them as kindred spirits.

He shook the ridiculous thoughts away. Kindred spirits? How foolish.

“Can you stop staring at me three-face? It’s freaking me out.” He flinched a bit at the sound of the femme’s voice. She didn’t even need to turn around to see she was staring at him. Perhaps it was a organic thing?

“Maybe jou should covah jour disgusting organic form bug!” His angrier personality growled as he crossed his arms. He only received silence in return, he cocked his head to the side, not snark remarks. Now it was his turn to be disturbed. “Vhat’s vrong? Morphobot got jour glossa?”

Silence.

His faces switched much more, falling on Icy as he rage melted away. He furrowed his optic-ridges and stared at the femme.

“Blackarachnia?”

“What is it three-face? Can’t you see I’m—”

“I’m sorry.”

The femme shot up and stared at the mech with wide optics. He had his Icy persona in control, his least passionate one of she remembered correctly. Yet she could hear the sincerity in his voice. Narrowing her optics at the triple changer the pressed her lip plates into a thin line.

“Sorry for what?”

There was a small pause as she gazed at the large mech. He had his thinking face on, a face she grew very familiar with. Only Icy used it really. His optic ridges were slightly furrowed, his one optic focused as he chose his next words carefully. 

“Ve vill make zhem pay for vhat happened,” He paused once more. “I promise.”

She looked at him for only a few seconds longer. She shut her optics as she returned to her previous position, her back facing him. She chose not to answer the triple changer, promises never worked out in her favor anyway. She wrapped her arms around herself as she attempted to force herself back into recharge. 

But she couldn’t contain the slight uplifted feeling she got at his words. 


End file.
